


Don’t Tell Me What I Already Know

by Drarry_is_my_life76



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2019-09-30 06:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17218451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drarry_is_my_life76/pseuds/Drarry_is_my_life76
Summary: Harry gets kidnapped by the Dark Lord. Can Draco help him find a way out?





	1. Together?

Harry looked at Cedric, and asked “Together?”  
The other boy nodded. They grasped the handles of the cup and felt the pull of a portkey. 

Harry opened his eyes to a dark, eerie graveyard. He heard a voice say “Kill the spare.”  
There was a flash of green light, and Harry screamed as Cedric fell to the ground. Harry watched in a daze as he was bound to a grave. He watched as Wirmtail brought back the Dark Lord. He watched as Voldemort summoned the Death Eaters to him, and boasted. Then, Voldemort turned to him.

“And now, I suppose you think I’m going to kill you?”

Harry glared at Voldemort, who laughed. 

“Oh no, I have other plans for you. Lucius.”

“Yes my Lord?” Lucius said, swiftly stepping forward.

“Stupefy him, and bring him back to the manor.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”


	2. The House of the Malfoy

Harry woke up in a soft bad, surrounded by pillows. He sat up and looked around at the large room.

The room had stone walls and a wood floor. There was a solid oak door in the opposite wall. There was a large fireplace with a Slytherin green sofa in front of it. There was an oak mantle with photos on it, and oil lamps hanging from the unforgiving walls. The fireplace was surrounded by large oak bookshelves, and a desk sat next to the bed.The four poster bed he lay in was covered with a comforter that matched the sofa. On the wall, there hung a Slytherin banner. There were no windows, and a smaller oak door sat in the wall opposite the fireplace. 

Harry slid out of the bed, and stole over to the door. He tried the silver handle which didn’t move. Harry reaches for his wand, but found an empty pocket. He cursed, and kicked the door, causing him to curse louder and grab his foot. 

“He’s awake.” Harry heard a deep voice say from outside the door. 

“Good.” A silky voice that Harry recognized as Malfoy’s father’s replied. 

Harry moves back, and grabbed a book to throw. He got ready, listening to his heart beat. 

The door opened, and there stood Lucius Malfoy, wearing silk robes, brandishing his wand.

“Expelliarmus!” The book flew from Harry’s hand. “Now then, none of that.”

Malfoy walked toward Harry, sneering. Harry’s eyes flicked to the door, which closed on it’s own behind Malfoy. 

“The Dark Lord has commanded me to cause as much pain as I can. I must say, I find this task to be quite enjoyable.” 

“I’m sure you do, Malfoy.” Harry said with a look of disgust.

“Manners, Potter.” Malfoy sneered, raising his wand, “Crucio!”

Harry screamed, his body racked with pain. He collapsed while Malfoy laughed and looked on. After 10 minutes, he lifted his wand.

“He has commanded me to mark you.” Malfoy smirked, pulling a knife from the folds of his robes. He advanced, and slowly, slowly, carved a Dark Mark into Harry’s forearm. Harry screamed, and fainted.


	3. The Expectation

It continued this way for a week, Malfoy coming in every day to crucio Harry and carve the Dark Mark in a little deeper.

After one such session, Malfoy revived Harry to inform him that he would have a roommate soon.

“Who?” Harry groaned. 

“Well, look around you, Potter. Who do you think?” Malfoy sneered, before leaving the room. 

Harry stood up, which was quite a painful process. He limped over to the bed and lay down. He closed his eyes, but couldn’t sleep. His mind kept going back to the ‘look around you, Potter,” that Malfoy had said. Finally, he stood up, and dragged himself over to the mantel. 

He picked up the first photo, which was encased in a silver frame. Glancing down the mantel, he saw that all the others had an identical frame. Harry examined the photo, and was surprised to see a picture of Draco Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy, arms around each other, in front of the Eiffel Tower, smiling at the camera. He set it down, and picked up the next one. It contained a picture of three children, around 5, sitting on the floor of a kitchen, eating a birthday cake. One had blond hair, pale skin, and grey eyes. The girl sitting next to him had black hair and a wide smile. The boy on the other side of the blond boy had dark skin, chiseled features, and dark eyes. They were smiling, and Harry did a double take as he realized that the happy blond child was Draco Malfoy. He set it down, and looked at the next picture. They all contained Draco Malfoy, and he realized that this was probably Malfoy Manor. “That shouldn’t surprise you, Harry. Bloody Malfoy’s the one who’s making your life hell. Like father, like son.” Harry muttered to himself. He sat down on the couch, and watched the fire flicker. Soon, he nodded off.


	4. The Visitor

Harry woke up that night, and stretched out. Realizing he had fallen asleep on the couch, Harry got up and walked over to the bed, cursing as he held his back. Harry reaches the bed, and pulled back the covers, to reveal a teenager laying there. As soon as he moved the blanket, the boy sat up. 

“Malfoy!” Harry yelled, scrambling back. 

“Potter, you do realize that it’s the middle of the night, right?” Draco Malfoy asked.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“This is my room.”

“What the- your- What?” Harry said.

“Talk in the morning, like a normal person, Potter.” Malfoy said as he turned over and pulled the blanket over his head.

Harry stood there for a minute, and slowly walked back to the couch. He sat down, and began to think.

After an hour, Harry heard Malfoy get up and walk over.

“Alright. We can talk now,” Malfoy said as he sat down on the other side of the sofa.

“What the bloodly hell is going on!” Harry yelled.

“Potter! Keep it down! There are dangerous people here. They can hear,” Malfoy said.

“Dangerous! Like who? Your father?” Harry said sarcastically.

“Exactly,” Malfoy said softly, staring into the fire.

Harry stares at him for a moment, then burst out. “Why are you here?”

“I live here, Potter. After you and Diggory disappeared, Dumbledore closed school early.”

“Don’t talk about Cedric!” Harry said hotly.

“Alright,” Malfoy replied, shrugging.

“Why are you here?” Harry asked.

“Again, Potter I live here. The Dark Lord and his followers are using this house as headquarters,” Malfoy said.

Harry nodded, and the two sat there, staring at the fire. Harry kept glancing at Malfoy. 

“By the way, Potter, you smell. When was the last time you showered?” Malfoy drawled.

Harry started, and looked at him. 

“What? If I have to live with you, at least take care of your personal hygiene,” Malfoy stated.

“Why do you have to stay? Surely the son of a Death Eater has free reign?” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

”Potter, I’m as much a prisoner here as you,” Malfoy sighed.

”What do you mean?” Harry asked.

”I mean, Potter, that my father has locked me up in here with you,” Malfoy answered.

”Why?” Harry said, leaning forward, wincing as he did so.

“Are you hurt?” Malfoy said, evading the question. “Let me see.”

”No!” Harry said.

“Why not?” Malfoy asked, “going to heal yourself?” 

”Well, I mean, I could!” Harry denied, getting ready for an argument.

“Fine,” Malfoy.

“I cou-wait, What!” Harry exclaimed.

“Fine. I’m going back to bed,” Malfoy said, standing up. Harry stared incredulously as he walked over to the bed and laid down. 

“Hermione would have aurgued with me, and Ron would’ve backed her up,” Harry thought. He laid down and looked at the fire. His eyes began to droop, and he drifted off to sleep.


	5. The Helping Hand

Harry awoke the next morning to a shower running. He sat up and looked around. Malfoy appeared to be in the bathroom, so Harry lay back down. The door opened and Malfoy walked out, dressed in black trousers, black boots, and a green t-shirt. He was toweling his wet hair, and Harry couldn’t help staring.

“Are you quite done?” Malfoy drawled, as he tossed the towel into a clothes hamper.

Harry started, “What?” 

“You’re staring,” he stated as he walked over to the desk.

“No! No, I’m not!” Harry said, turning red.

“Yes, you are,” Malfoy said as he sat down and pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill.

“Well, What are you doing?” Harry said, blushing profusely.

“Homework,” Malfoy said as he bent his head over his parchment.

“What homework?” Harry asked, coming over to look over Malfoy’s shoulder at the parchment, which already had a lengthy intro.

“Transfiguration,” Malfoy stated as his quill moved fluidly over the paper, covering it in his elegant script. 

“You got an assignment in transfiguration after two students went missing?” Harry exclaimed.

“And potions, astronomy, ancient runes, and arithmacy,” Malfoy stated.

Harry opened his mouth to respond when the door opened, and Malfoy Senior walked in.

“Ah, I see we’re getting acquainted. What have I told you about associating with riff-raff?” Malfoy asked.

“Father,” Malfoy Junior said as he stood up and bowed his head.

“I expect better, Draco. I think I need to reinforce your lessons. Crucio!” Malfoy said as he raised his wand and pointed it at Malfoy Junior. Malfoy Junior winced, but stood straight and tall. 

Harry shouted and ran forward, but was thrown aside by a spell from Malfoy Senior. He crashed into the post of the bed. As soon as he hit, his vision blurred. Harry shook his head, and attempted to stand up. He felt ropes bind his wrists to the post, and a gag fly around his mouth. He struggled, but soon realized it was hopeless.

“Did you want to say something about how I raise my son, Potter?” Malfoy Senior said as he pointed his wand back at Malfoy Junior, who stood silently.

“Crucio!” Malfoy screamed yet again, and Harry watched as Malfoy stood like a statue. Harry started struggling again, but after half an hour, he slumped back against the bedpost as he watches Malfoy Junior start to shake in pain. Soon, he collapsed to the floor, shaking in pain. Harry started to struggle agian, his efforts renewed after Malfoy started screaming. Malfoy Senior smirked and kept his wand trained on his son. 

“Please! Please, Father!” Malfoy screamed. 

“You are a Malfoy. Malfoys don’t beg,” Malfoy sneered. Harry could see Malfoy take a deep breathe, and slowly, he stopped shaking. Harry looked on in amazement as he stood up and faced his father.

“Father, I respectfully request you release me from the spell,” Malfoy spoke with a shaky voice.

“That is how Malfoys act,” Malfoy Senior said, as he lifted the spell. Malfoy Junior’s shoulders and head slumped, but he quickly straightened them as Malfoy Senior turned his wand on Harry.

“Crucio!” Harry began to writhe in pain and was soon screaming through the gag as pain hit him. Harry fainted after a few minutes, and Malfoy lifted the spell. Malfoy Senior revived him, and was soon carving the Dark Mark in a little deeper on his back.

Malfoy Junior looked on with a frown, his wand hand twitching toward his pocket. As soon as his father left, Malfoy was on the floor next to Harry.

“Potter, I’m moving you to the bathroom so I can clean you up,” Malfoy said as he cast a weightless charm and levitated Harry toward the bathroom. Harry groaned, and mumbled to himself. Malfoy sat him in the bathtub, and pulled off Harry’s shirt. He cleaned it swiftly, but gently. When Harry’s cut was clean, Malfoy cast a drying spell, then attempted to cast a cleaning charm.

“Potter, wake up,” Malfoy snapped.

“What?” Harry muttered.

“Father must have used an enchanted knife. This cut isn’t healing with a healing charm. I have to bandage it,” Malfoy said as he conjured bandages and aciod a potion.

“Alright,” Harry mumbled.

“Potter! Stay with me!” Malfoy snapped.

“Why?” Harry asked, opening his eyes.

“Because you’ve lost a lot of blood, and I need you to take this blood replenisher,” Malfoy said as he wrapped the bandage around Harry’s chest.

“Okay, Draco,” Harry mumbled.

“What did you just- never mind. We will address that later. Now, drink this,” Malfoy ordered. Harry swallowed as ordered, and leaned back. “Now, you can sleep,”

Harry leaned back, and Malfoy finished wrapping his chest. Malfoy levitated him back into his bedroom, and laid him out on the bed.


	6. The Truth of the Matter

Harry opened his eyes the next morning in a soft bed, once again surrounded by pillows. He attempted to sit up, but was stopped by a voice from his left.

“I wouldn’t get up,” Malfoy said. Harry turned his head, and saw Malfoy writing at his desk.

“Malfoy! What happened?” Harry exclaimed. Malfoy sighed and put down his quill.

“Do you really not remember anything?” 

“I remember everything up to, well, when he Crucioed me,” Harry said, pulling his legs up to his chest.

“Once Father had left, I cleaned and bandaged the cut,” Malfoy said. Harry sat there quietly as Malfoy picked up his quill once again.

“How can you call him father!” Harry burst out all at once.

“He is my father,” Malfoy replied calmly, rolling up his finished essay.

“He tortured you!” Harry argued.

“He was teaching me,” Malfoy said as he put away his essay.

“How can you be so calm? Your father tortured you, and you say it’s right?” Harry exclaimed.

“Potter, do you know anything about rights of minors within pureblood families?” Malfoy asked, turning to face him.

“No, why?” Harry asked.

“Parents or guardians may raise their children any way they deem appropriate. Everything my father did was legal, except using an unforgivable,” Malfoy stated.

“How can you be so calm!” Harry shouted.

“Potter. I’ve excepted how I am being raised. From how you look when you come back from break, I would guess your caretakers are less capable of raising a child than my father,” Malfoy drawled.

“I’m fine!” Harry said defensively. Malfoy gave him a pointed look, and Harry dropped his gaze.

“Now, I need to check your cut,” Malfoy said, standing up and coming to the edge of the bed. 

After Harry had new, clean, bandages on, Malfoy sat back down at his desk and pulled out yet another piece of parchment.

“More homework?” Harry asked, wriggling back into his shirt.

“No, I’m quite finished with homework,” Malfoy said as he wrote.

“What is it then?” Harry asked, walking over to look over his shoulder.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s a letter to Blaise,” Malfoy said.

“I can’t read it,” Harry said, tilting his head.

“It’s impolite to read others mail,” Malfoy chided.

“But why can’t I read it?” Harry questioned.

“It’s in Latin,” Malfoy said.

“You speak Latin?” Harry asked.

“Along with French, Spanish, Russian, Chinese, Hindi, and Arabic,” Malfoy stated. “I can read and write all of them.”

“Bloody hell,” Harry breathed. After a moment of silence, Harry asked, “Why?”

“My first language was French, and all purebloods must learn Latin. English was required, as we live in England. The others my mother taught me,” Malfoy replied.

“Your first language was French?” Harry questioned.

“My mother’s mother was French,” Malfoy explained. 

“Say something in French,” Harry demanded.

“Voulez-vous s'il vous plaît laissez-moi être afin que je puisse finir cette lettre?” Malfoy said.

“What did you say?” Harry asked.

“Will you please leave me be so I may finish this letter?” Malfoy replied. Harry blushed, and apologized. He sat down on the bed, and watched Malfoy write. When he reached the end of the parchment, he rolled it up, sealed it, and put it in his desk drawer. 

“Potter, do you remember anything from yesterday?” Malfoy asked, turning around to face him.

“No, why?” Harry asked.

“You said something,” Malfoy replied.

“What did I say?” Harry asked, sitting up. Thoughts of Sirius filled his head.

“You called me by my first name,” Malfoy said.

“I did?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Malfoy said.

“Well, why don’t we call each other by our first names? I mean, we share a room now,” Harry said, looking at his lap.

“As we are sharing a room, we need to go over some ground rules, Harry,” Malfoy said. Harry looked up, and gave Malfoy, or Draco, a small smile.

“Ground rules?” Harry questioned.

“Yes. Ground rules. Rule one, stay out of my desk, school trunk, and wardrobe,” Malfoy drawled. Harry nodded, and Draco continued. “Two, no insulting Slytherins or my family.”

“As long as you don’t insult my friends or the Weasleys.” Harry said.

“Agreed. Three, you can read any of my books but those on my desk. If I get mail, don’t open it. Pansy knows Latin, but hates writing in it. I will know if you open and read my letters,” Draco said with a threatening glare. 

“Sounds good,” Harry said, lying back down on the bed.

“Sit up! My father is coming!” Draco hissed, “I can hear his boots!”

Harry sat up, and Draco put on his Malfoy sneer as the door opened.

“Good, you learned your lesson. Remeber, you are a Malfoy. Act like one at all times,” Malfoy said.

“Yes Father,” Draco said, then, after a moments hesitation, said “Père, je mets mon sang et ma douleur à contribution pour remplacer Potter,”

“J'accepte l'offrande,” Malfoy said with a sneer, “Crucio!”

Draco faced the pain as he had yesterday, but did not beg this time. Instead, he let himself faint from the pain. Malfoy revived him, and pulled up his left sleeve. He pulled his knife out of his robes, and started to engrave a Dark Mark into Draco’s forearm. Draco flinched and suppressed a whimper. After Malfoy was done, he turned to Harry.

“You are safe from physical pain. Draco has offered to take it for you, but I will take pleasure in doing it in front of you every day. You will watch, knowing it is your fault and not being able to do anything about it,” Malfoy smirked, with an evil glint in his eyes. With a final sneer, he swept from the room. Harry rushes over to Draco, who was examining the Dark Mark engraved into his skin.

“You know what I’ve just realized?” Draco asked.

“What?” Harry said as he followed Draco to the bathroom and watched as he washed the cut.

“The Dark Mark would not look good on me,” Draco replies. Harry laughed, and then grew silent. “What?”

“Your father said you offered to take it for me. Why?”

“Because, Harry, you are the choosen one. You are going to defeat the Dark Lord. Not me, you,” Draco said as he wrapped his wrist. Harry watched him in amazement, and followed him back into the bedroom. 

Draco sat down on the couch, and grabbed a book. Harry sat down on the other end of the couch, watching him. After a few minutes, Draco sighed.

“Would you like a book?” He asked. Harry started, then nodded. Draco walked over to his shelves, and choose a maroon book, titled The Best Quidditch Teams of all Time. The rest of the night was spent in silence, both imersed in their books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The French phrases mean “Father, I offer my blood and pain in place of Potter’s,”  
> and “I accept,”


	7. Living With a Malfoy

Harry was woken the next morning by a sharp stinging hex to the shoulder. He sat up, rubbing his shoulder. He straightened his glasses, and looked around.

“Up, Potter. Your presence is required,” Malfoy said, keeping his wand trained on Harry. “Up!” 

As Harry stood up, he looked around for Draco. 

“Where’s Draco?” Harry asked, wincing as he realized what he had just said. From the look he received, he knew Draco would be getting it for his slip. 

“That is not your concern,” Malfoy sneered. “Now, move!”

Harry was marched at wand point down the long, stone hallway. When they came to an oaken door, Harry was roughly pushed through. He looked around, finding himself in a large room. There was a fireplace made of rough stone opposite him. A man in black robes stood in front of the crackling fire, seemingly transfixed by the flames.

“Severus, do you have the potion?” Malfoy asked. Harry started at the name Severus, and watched as Snape turned, his greasy hair glinting in the light. He gasped as Snape reached into his robes and produced a small vial of scarlet liquid. 

“How could you? Dumbledore trusts you! You filthy Death Eater! How could-“ Harry’s rant was cut off as Snape poured the contents of the vial down his throat, forcing him to swallow. Harry wretched and gagged, trying to force the potion out of his gut. He succeeded in wretching it up, and watched with pleasure as it went all over Snape’s robes.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled. Harry felt a rush of satisfaction, even as Malfoy sent a stinging blow across his face.

“How long will it take to brew it again?” Malfoy asked as he sent a wordless binding spell at Harry, forcing him to his knees.

“About 2 weeks,” Snape replied, “As soon as it is finished, I will contact you.” With that, Snape swept out of the room, robes billowing behind him. Harry glared after him, fervently hoping he trips down the stairs and dies.

“Up,” Malfoy snapped, yanking him to his feet and removing the ropes around his ankles. “Move.”

Harry marched back down the hallway, and was pushed roughly through the door to Draco’s room. Malfoy sneered as he locked the door, and Harry glared at the door as the sound of his boots faded.

“Draco, can you help me get these ropes off?” Harry signed, turning to look at him. “Draco!” He gasped. Draco was sitting on the bed, wrapped in his blanket with a vacant expression. Harry heditantly walked towards him and sat down on the end of the bed. 

“Draco?” Draco didn’t move. Harry reached out to put his hand on Draco’s shoulder, but Draco flinched away. Harry tried again, and this time placed his hand on Draco’s arm. Draco screamed, and scrambled to get away from him.

“Please! Please no! Not again, no, no, no,” Draco rambled, pulling his legs up to his chin. He continued to mumble, keeping his eyes on Harry.

“Draco, what happened?” Harry asked, confusion in his eyes. Draco just wrapped the blanket around himself tighter. After fifteen minutes of begging and telling him he wasn’t there to hurt him, Draco relaxed. Then, he burst into tears.

“Hey, it’s okay. Tell me what happened, it might help,” Harry soothed, staying where he was so he didn’t scare Draco. After a few seconds, he began speaking in broken sentences.

“I was waiting- waiting for you, and he- he came in,” 

“Who’s he?” Harry asked gently.

“Rodolphus,” Draco whispered.

“Bellatrix’s husband?” Harry frowned as Draco nodded. “Isn’t he your uncle?”

“Ye-Yes. He came in and- and he just, just did it. He cast a binding spell. It tied my hands to the headboard,” here Draco stopped, closing his eyes and visibly trying not to break down. After a few minutes, he continued. “He vanished my clothes. Then, he- he took off his robe. I screamed, and he- he just laughed! He did it.”

Harry sat there in stunned silence for a moment, then asked, “Draco, did he rape you?”

Draco nodded, and choked back tears. Harry hesitated, but then stood up. 

“Come on, you need to get cleaned up, and put some clothes on.”

When Draco hesitated, Harry slowly put his hand out and looked him straight in the eye.

“Draco. I would never hurt you like that. I am your friend. Please, let me help.”

After a few seconds of hesitation, Draco stood up. Harry realized, a little two late, that Draco was naked. 

“Er, here,” Harry cast around, looking for something for Draco to wear. He was stopped when Draco tentivly put his hand on Harry’s arm.

“It’s okay. I trust you,” Draco stated with such absolute certainty that Harry had to look away. 

After a very awkward bath, Draco was in his pajamas and asleep on the couch. Harry had asked him if he wanted the bed, but Draco had told him he didn’t ever want to sleep on that bed again. Harry sat on the couch next to Draco, watching him. Harry couldn’t help but marvel at how strong he was, and how different Draco was from Malfoy. Malfoy was a prat, but Draco was strong, loyal, and funny. He had a sharp wit, and an even sharper tongue. He was also pretty fit- no. Harry stopped that train of thought immediately. 

“He is not gay. Plus, why would he want you? Your just Harry, and he’s, well, he’s Draco. No. Sleep, Harry. Go to sleep. Now,” Harry thought as he closed his eyes. Soon, his exhausted mind gave him peace, and he slept.


	8. You're a What?

Harry woke up in the early morning. He stretched, and looked down at the peacefully sleeping Draco. He was still reeling from all that had happened yesterday. Draco had been raped, and he had found out some things about himself. Though, now that he thought about it, he had always had a bit of an obsession with Draco. What would Hermoine say? What would Ron- Ron. What was wrong with him? He hadn't thought about his two best friends at all! What kind of a friend was he? Hermoine was probably worried sick. 

"As soon as I get out, I need to talk to them. How am I going to get out? Draco could probably help me, but them he would be stuck here. I can't do that. His father would kill him. But, what would happen if I stayed here? Voldemort would kill me, and what was that potion that Snape tried to give me? Snape. The bloody traitor. Dumbledore trusted him, and now this? I need to talk to him. Or Lupin or Sirius. They would know what to do," Harry's thoughts were cut off by Draco, who had let out a whimper, and thrashed. Harry immediately knelt down next to him.

"Hey, it's all right. I got you. Draco, wake up. I'ts just a dream. Wake up," he rambled. Draco's eyes fluttered open, and he bolted upright, gasping. He stumbled up, and wobbled to the bathroom. Harry followed, and watched as Draco wretched into the toilet. He rubbed his back as Draco collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

"Hey, it's alright," he murmured. Draco's tears trailed off, ad he sat up, hiccuping.

"I was afraid of that," Draco whispered.

"Of what?" Harry asked quietly. Draco sat up, and curled his legs in.

"Pregnancy," Draco stated.

"Pregnancy? How? You're a male, and-how?" He finished lamely.

"I'm part Veela. Male Veelas are able to carry children," Draco replied. "And I can tell you one thing, I'm not staying here while this is happening. I need help."

Harry nodded, and watched as Draco stood and walked into the bedroom. He scrambled to his feet and followed him. Harry watched Draco pack his school things, and tap a lock on the trunk. The trunk shrunk, and Draco picked it up. Finally, he turned to Harry.

"We only have one chance to tear through the wards, and I need a place to go. I can apparate, but it's highly illegal to do so without a license. And, I'm afraid we don't have time to grab your wand," Draco said, watching Harry. Harry stared at him, and Draco sighed. "Apparating is a form of magical travel. It allows witches and wizards to disappear and reappear in another place. To do so, you need a license. I'm not technically old enough to, but I'm able. I need you to tell me a safe location to apparate us to."

Harry nodded slowly.

"How about The Burrow?" 

Draco looked thoughtful.

"Weasley's house?" 

"Yes. Is that a problem?" Harry asked, defensively. Draco rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"I'm running away from home, I'm pregnant, and my father will kill me when he hears about this. Is Weasley's house safe?" He asked pointedly. Harry blushed, and nodded. "Right then. Let's go."

Draco held out his arm, and it took Harry a second to realize what he was supposed to do. He grasped onto Draco's arm, and felt a tug as Draco turned swiftly. The world went black, and Harry felt all the air sucked out of his lungs. A moment later, he could breathe and see again. He opened his eyes and looked around. Harry saw The Burrow and let go of Draco's arm. He turned to Draco, who simply nodded and began walking swiftly down the hill. Harry hurried to catch up. When they reached the front gate Harry took the lead. He opened it and walked down the path. He came to the door and opened it.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry called.

"Who is it?" a voice answered, and Harry watched as a basket of clothes appeared. A motherly face framed with red hair peered around the mound of clothes. "Harry? Oh, Harry!" Mrs. Weasley gasped as she let go of the hamper, which stayed in the air behind her as she bustled around it to scoop Harry up into a hug. Harry breathed in the distinctly Mrs. Weasley smell, and relaxed into her arms. He was home.

Draco cleared his throat behind them, and Mrs. Weasley released Harry. Harry turned to see Draco looking distinctly uncomfortable. Mrs. Weasley looked between the two of them, and her eyebrows rose.

"I'll make some tea, shall I?" she asked, and soon Harry and Draco were seated in the kitchen with steaming cups of tea. Mrs. Weasley listened to their story, and when Harry told her about what Regulus had done, she stood up. Draco tensed, and blinked in surprise when he was enveloped in a warm hug. Harry watched as Draco let himself go, crying into her shoulder. After a few moments, Draco was out of tears, and Harry was almost asleep in his chair.

"Now, you two. You go on upstairs and go to sleep. When Arthur gets home, I'll tell him what's happened. Don't worry about Ron and the like, Draco, dear. I'll explain to them. They're all out in the garden. Now, don't you worry. Everything will be all right. Harry, why don't you show Draco to Percy's old room. You can sleep with Ron, and I'll come wake you up for supper. Everything will be fine," she said as she bustled them up the stairs. Harry and Draco were soon fast asleep in their beds, and for that moment, everything was just fine.


	9. Bloody Hell!

The next morning, Harry woke to a loud “Bloody Hell! She was serious?” Harry sat up, and looked around. He blinked, and jammed his glasses on. Ron came into focus. 

“Ron! You heard what your mum said! He’s safe. Plus, shouldn’t you be focusing on Harry?” Hermione’s voice cut through the fog in Harry’s head. “Look! He’s awake!” 

“Harry! Bloody hell mate, you scared me! Now, what the hell is this ferret doing here?”

“Ron, ‘Monie! I’m alright. Mrs. Weasley said she would explain it all to you, and Draco’s fine,” 

“Draco- bloody hell! He’s not your friend! He’s a Slytherin! His father is a death eater! We can’t trust him!” Ron exclaimed.

“He is not! He helped me escape! His father bloody tortured him!” Harry argued. Ron glared and crossed his arms, and Hermoine turned to look at Draco. Draco stood up, and returned Ron’s glare, though Draco’s was 10 times more terrifying.

“I’m only going to explain it all once. If any of your family wants to hear how I’m not a bloody death eater, get them all together. I’ll even use  
veritaserum. That way, you have proof I’m telling the truth,” Silence followed Draco’s speech. Then, Hermoine opened her mouth.

“I know what you did for Harry, and I know what happened to you. For that, I’m sorry. However, you have done some not okay things. I will listen to what you have to say, but I can not forgive you, not do I like you,” Draco nodded after Hermionie finished. Then, he turned to Ron.

“If someone could point me to a bathroom, I will wash up and go see Mrs. Weasley,” Ron scowled, and Harry quickly told Draco where the bathroom was. He nodded and left. Harry knew he was giving them some time to talk alone.

“Alright. Ron, his da bloody tortured him for every little mistake. He was RAPED! He is bloody pregnant! At fifteen! He got me out of their, and saved my life! The least you can do is give him a chance,” Harry stopped, panting. Ron looked chastised, and nodded.

“You're right mate,” he mumbled. Hermoine gave Harry a grateful look, and a small smile. Harry smiles back, he knew it would all be okay. If Ron and Hermionie could give Draco the chance he deserved, then the other Weasleys could.


	10. Oh! I know!

“Good morning!” Harry exclaimed as he bounded into the kitchen, stopping once he saw the silent stand off between Draco and the Weasleys. Mrs. Weasley was nowhere to be seen, but the twins, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley all stood glaring at Draco. Draco appeared relaxed and in control, with a fierce glare of his own. 

“Harry, mate!” One of the twins exclaimed.

“We just-“

“Found this-“ 

“Little ferret-“

“Here-“

“And-“ 

“Need some-“

“Help-“ 

“Deciding-“ 

“How he-“

“Got in,” Fred finished. All the Weasleys looked at Harry for an explanation. He groaned, and walked over to stand next to Draco.

“Mrs. Weasley knows everything, and I promised we would wait for Ron and ‘Mione to explain,” Harry said. Mr. Weasley relaxed, but the twins didn’t. They all stood in silence for the next few minutes, until Mrs. Weasley bustled in.

“Now, all of you sit down. Draco will tell us all about it when Ron and Hermoine are here. Now, bacon, Harry dear?” The twins sat down at one end of the table, leaving a space for Ginny between them. Ginny sat down, and everyone else followed. Draco sat stiffly, and silently. A few minutes later, Ron and Hermione entered. Once everyone was seated, Mrs. Weasley turned to Draco and Harry.

“Alright dears, go ahead.”

Harry told them the story, with Draco adding details and comments. By the time they were done, Ron looked sick.

“Mrs. Weasley, is that true? Do parents really have the right to raise their children any way they want?” Hermoine exclaimed. At Mrs. Weasley’s nod, Hermoine turned red. “But that’s not right! So many people could be in an abusive home! And the ministry can’t do anything?”

“Granger, it’s not abuse. It’s the law. Made by the ministry. Why would they repeal a law that enables them to do whatever they want to their children?” Draco stated. 

“Its abuse! It’s not right! It’s like house elves all over again!”

“Granger, life isn’t fair. You can either except it, and move on, or break down and cry. Which one gets more done?” Hermoine considered this, and finally nodded. “Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I can’t stay here.” 

The twins snorted, and gave him identical glares. 

“And no, nothing against you personally, but I don’t know you and I’m pregnant. I need to go somewhere safer and better equipped to deal with a Veela pregnancy.”

“Dear, I’m sure I can help. After all, I’m a mother of seven kids. I know quite a bit about pregnancies,” Mrs. Weasley chided. 

“I know, Mrs. Weasley. However, Veela pregnancies are much more violent. My mother destroyed an entire wing during her pregnancy. I would prefer not to destroy your home,”

“Oh! I have an idea. All of us are leaving tomorrow. Get your things packed,” Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.

“Where are we going Mum?” Ron asked.

“Never you mind, just do as your told,” Mrs. Weasley scolded. Ron nodded.


End file.
